


above all, i must not play at god

by merrywil



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:54:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrywil/pseuds/merrywil
Summary: Spoilers for Endgame.  See inside for summary.





	above all, i must not play at god

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arbonne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbonne/gifts).



> Summary: Wong and Stephen, after the battle and beyond.
> 
> Gen. You can use whatever glasses you prefer. This movie prompted me to write again after about 5 years. I hope the fandom continues, as it has been a joy. Not beta'd, so apologies in advance for any grammatical errors. I own nothing, as we used to say; this is a thank you letter, too.

When the pressure of alien magic released, it felt like shoving too hard at a door that was unlatched.  The relief was unimaginably welcome. Stephen bit back a sharp gasp, as the eldritch magic slipped away, his concentration no longer sustaining it.  

The battlefield fell silent, or he thought it had until he realized that sound was wavering in and out.  He didn’t realize his vision had begun to do the same, until the charred landscape around him began to melt and twist.  A flare of pain shot up his arm as one of his hands attempted to break his fall, the Cloak not responding as it usually would as he stumbled to his knees.  

The pain from his shoulder hitting the earth was far more muted, and he blinked the world in and out of focus.  He would have known what the absence of the Maw’s magic meant, even had he not been watching the scene below him unfold.  After all, he had seen it all before.

“Damn it.  Stark. Help, help me up,” he whispered to the Cloak.  

But maybe it was as drained as he was, because its ends waved feebly.  If he could have felt anything, he would have felt despair. But then even blinking his eyes open again became impossible, and there was only darkness.

__

Wong wasn’t too concerned at first.  After all, the Cloak would have come for help if any was needed.  But he was concerned enough that he eventually put his mind to remembering where Strange had stood at the end of the battle, holding back the Maw’s colossal waterspout from drowning them all.  

He had already portalled or directed a number of survivors back to the triage area that they had erected until emergency responders could arrive, and he supposed that his focus on that task might have made him miss his friend.  Hell, at this point, he was tired enough that Stephen could have walked right past him without his noticing.

When he caught sight of the unmoving flash of red atop the outcropping of debris, he realized that he had supposed wrongly.  

“Strange? Stephen?”  

With hands that trembled almost as much as Stephen’s usually did, he cast a bar of glowing light above the fallen sorcerer.  Wong was not gifted in the healing arts, but he was more than capable of a rudimentary scan. _Mild (thank the Vishanti, or he would have bled out long before this) internal bleeding, cracked ribs, bruising, and absolutely depleted magical energies...idiot._

The flash of red that he had seen was the Cloak, its form trapped beneath that of its chosen.  One end waved tiredly at Wong, then softly caressed Strange’s soot-darkened hair.

“Can you lift him?”  Wong thought he already knew the answer, as the Cloak would have moved Strange long before this if it was capable of doing so.  The edge drooped to the ground in a clear expression of regret.

“It’s alright.”  He felt the need to reassure; Strange’s Cloak was oddly personable for a relic.  

Gritting his teeth against the soft throb of overused magic, Wong moved his hands in a different configuration, and Strange’s body and the Cloak levitated into the air.  Opening a portal, Wong was inundated with a wave of noise from the triage area. A band of magic tugging the relic and its master behind him, Wong stepped through, eyes already scanning the people present.  

One healer was stepping away from a patient, presumably stable for the moment.  “Master Szigyl, I need help with Strange!”

__

Wong wasn’t resting per se.  Just pausing for a moment, as the chaos around him slowly spiralled towards its end.  In just a few short hours, the wounded had been triaged and stabilized, as much as could be done on the field.  

The majority of the Earth’s practitioners of the mystic arts had been here, so it had made the most sense to centralize those who could be found for access to the healers among them.  The area was now an evacuation site, with portals to Kamar-Taj and a non-mystical staging area outside of what had once been the compound.

Stephen had been badly injured, physically and magically, but nowhere as seriously as some.  While they took precedence, Wong sat next to his friend, carefully laid on the Cloak on a cleared patch of earth.  Stephen’s turn through the portal would come in a few minutes, and then maybe Wong could truly rest, if only to find a meal and doze in a corner for an hour.  

“Master...Wong?”  Wong did not startle; that would be unbecoming to a master of the mystic arts.

“Mrs. Stark.”  

Most civilians did not have visible auras, but Pepper Stark did.  It was an interesting phenomenon, and one that Wong would research given time.  The flickers of red were muted now, oddly washed out and grey, like the dying light of a fire in a summer shower.  She was looking down at Stephen, and he could not say what emotions ran across her face.

“Will he be alright?”

“He will live.  And heal, given time.”   _A good deal of time, particularly as he was likely to be impossible as usual._  Wong watched her guardedly.  He knew the barest details of the events on Titan, learned when Strange (looking the same as he did on that fateful day five years ago) opened a portal into the Sanctum and hurriedly outlined what they had to do.

The woman nodded.  “I wanted to thank you, and the other masters, for your help today.  This would not have been possible without you. I know you have your own resources, but if you need anything, the resources of Stark Industries and the Avengers are also at your disposal.”

Wong inclined his head gratefully.  “Thank you. And Mrs. Stark…” Here he stopped, turning his head briefly towards the student gesturing him towards an open portal outlining the courtyard of Kamar-Taj.  “I am sorry for your loss.”

 __

The process of returning to consciousness was very nearly that of losing one’s grip on it, in reverse.   _Well, accompanied by inane musings like the one above,_ Stephen thought.  Everything hurt, which was probably an improvement as he’d been intentionally blocking his awareness of just how many injuries he’d sustained on Titan.   _Minor concussion, cracked ribs, internal hemorrhaging, various lacerations and contusions...probably not the smartest things to ignore, but needs must._

The muted sounds of a pop song filtered through, wavering in and out with increasing clarity.  “Adele, One and Only, ninth track on the album 21, 2011.” Too modern for his liking, but there’s no accounting for taste.

“Ah, at least some of your brain cells survived intact. 

“Good to see you too, Wong.”  Seeing came a moment later, as Stephen managed to pry his eyelids open.  His fellow sorcerer was ensconced in a chair next to what was Stephen’s own bed in the New York Sanctum.

“Thanos?”  Apparently Wong was skilled in the art of interpreting slightly out-of-it sorcerer, as he nodded firmly.  “Gone. Along with his armies.”

“Good.”  Now the hard part.  “And...casualties?”

“Fortunately, few.  Some injuries, worse than yours.  Most of ours are at Kamar-Taj. Amongst the Avengers...Natasha Romanov.  And Tony Stark. But then, you knew that, didn’t you?” Stephen couldn’t look Wong in the eye, could only look away.  But he didn’t need to answer.

Wong sighed. 

“Now that you’re awake, I have duties to attend to.  But if you need anything, just call; one of the students should be in shortly with a meal.”

“You let the students into my Sanctum?  They get into everything! Wong, I thought we were friends.”  Wong’s inscrutable look was a very unsatisfying response. “Fine.  But if they get lost, or eaten, it’s not my responsibility to go retrieve them.”

Wong was halfway to the door when he paused, and turned slightly.  “I forgot. Tomorrow...tomorrow is Stark’s funeral. Mrs. Stark has extended a personal invitation to the private memorial.  I am planning to attend, but I told her that you may be unable to come.” 

When only silence answered him, Wong closed the door softly, with another sigh.

\--

“Don’t say I shouldn’t have come." 

“I did not say anything.”

“Your glower says it for you.”

“I will not say anything about coming, but I will say I told you so when you fall on your face.”  Despite his grumblings, Wong kept a surreptitious hand hovering under Stephen’s elbow as they stepped through the portal onto the lawn.   _He should not have come; it is too soon.  Idiot._

The ceremony was mercifully brief, but a fitting tribute in its solemnity.  Birds trilled, and the green grass and blue sky were a reminder of everything that they had saved.

Pepper Stark found them shortly after, making her rounds through the guests with the grace and poise of one long experienced with public functions.  Her gaze was piercing, but kind, and she clasped both of their hands in turn. She was gentle with Stephen’s, Wong noticed.

“Master Wong, Doctor Strange.  Thank you for coming. Tony...may not have accepted that sorcery was not science, but he did come to respect your work and would have appreciated your being here today.”

Wong inclined his head solemnly.  Stephen bowed his, eyes studiously trained to the earth.

“Mrs. Stark.  It is our honor.  I am...so sorry for your loss, and your daughter’s.  Your husband...was a great man. No one else could have done what he did.”  Stephen’s voice was hoarse, and Wong winced.

But Pepper only smiled sadly, and rested a hand gently against Stephen’s arm.  “I know. Thank you. And I also know that he always, always *chose* to help people, no matter the cost.  That’s who he was, as long as it took me to accept it.”

Stephen nodded, but did not speak.  Wong let the tableau continue for a moment, before breaking it.  “Again, our condolences, Mrs. Stark. If ever the mystic arts can be of service to you, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Pepper smiled.  “Thank you. Master Wong, actually, might I have a moment?”

Wong was surprised, but Stephen seemed to shake himself into action before he could reply.  “I’ll be by the lake. Come find me when you’ve finished.” He bowed slightly, and slowly moved towards a tree at the water’s edge.  Wong watched, but saw only some stiffness and a lingering exhaustion, but no unsteadiness.

“You worry about him, don’t you?”  There was a perceptive glint in her eye when Wong turned again to face her.  Today her aura was still muted, but brighter.

“Master Wong, I have a question to ask of you, that I was not ready to ask your friend.”  Wong pursed his lips.

“Did he know? Know what would happen?" 

Wong only realized a moment later that he had shifted his stance to battle readiness, and turned to place himself between her and Stephen.  The slight upturn of her mouth suggested she recognized this. Wong was not as amused.

“I’m sorry.  That was poorly phrased; forgive me.  I don’t mean to suggest blame. If anything, the opposite.  I have seen someone very close to me suffer from the guilt of not saving everyone, even when that was not humanly possible.  And even sorcerers are only human.”

Wong thought that perhaps being only human was not a terrible thing, if a human who had been hurt so much could forgive so readily.  So he nodded, and smiled sadly.

“He knew.  And I do worry.”

Pepper nodded in turn.  “Then I hope that the both of you take care.  And know that if you ever need a place of refuge, you are both welcome here.” 

\--

When Wong picked his way carefully down the lawn to the lake’s edge, he found Stephen staring blankly at the light reflecting off the small waves.  Understandable; their motion was hypnotic. The shivering though, was worrisome. _Idiot.  It’s too cold to be sitting here in nothing but a light jacket._  

Stephen’s aura was different, Wong realized, compared to five years ago.  It had always been bright, but now it was as though some of the worldly trappings hiding it had been stripped away, like a conduit washed clean by a flood.  A side effect of extensive magic use? Something to research, once they were home. 

“Are you ready to go?” 

Stephen hummed, coming back to himself as Wong subtly helped him to his feet with a hand under his elbow.  Stephen’s other arm was braced against his ribs. “Yes. Although it’s beautiful here.”

“Well, it’s good that you think so.  Mrs. Stark has extended an open invitation for us to visit.”

His friend’s astonishment showed clearly, and his eyes were shadowed.  “I...find that surprising, all things considered.” 

Wong shook his head.  “I don’t. She is a good person.  And unlike some, she realizes that we all make our own choices.  Even if some of us make choices to be self-sacrificing idiots.”

Stephen squinted suspiciously at his friend, as he opened a portal ( _even faster than he used to, interesting_ ) to the Sanctum’s foyer.  Then he smiled, and Wong pointedly did not.  On the outside. 

“Besides, it will do you good to get out and have a life.  Otherwise, I will invite more students to visit to give you company.”

“Wong!  You wouldn’t!” 

Inside, Wong smiled.


End file.
